The Murder of Hermione Granger
by TizzyDizzy
Summary: Victim: Hermione Granger. Date of Death: March 3, 2003. Follow Draco as he tries to clear his name for a crime he didn't commit and to figure out the clues to her cold blood murder. DracoHerm
1. Prologue

The Murder of Hermione Granger

**Summary--**Victim: Hermione Granger. Date of Death: March 3, 2003. Person of Interest: Draco Malfoy. Follow Draco as he tries to clear his name for a crime he didn't commit and to figure out the clues in finding out if it was suicide or cold blood murder. D/HR

Disclaimer: Don't Own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd probably be out writing the 7th book. :P If I were her.

Hermione heard footsteps in the kitchen and let out a sigh of relief. She was really starting to get worried.

"Draco?" Hermione called out tentatively.

"Guess again, bitch!"

She screamed.

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_Hermione Granger, age 23, died on Monday. Funeral and services will be determined after studies and tests have been confirmed. The cause of death is, as of yet, unknown, but experts say homicide. Investigations are going underway and the prime suspect is rumored to be none other than Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and Granger's rival at Hogwarts. _

_Finishing at the top of her class at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she interned at a much sought after position at St. Mungos. Succeeding at that, she promptly went to work as one of the most brilliant Healers today... _

"Blah blah blah," Draco mumbled as he crushed the Daily Prophet in his hand while he straightened the tie on his suit. He turned to the spilt bloodshed on the couch. He would not cry, damnit, he just couldn't. He couldn't bear to clean it up and the bastards who took her body away didn't do anything either. He would not do such a thing. No one should have to do this, they shouldn't have to clean up their wife's blood after she died! Hermione was gone and he had no one. No one!

"I don't even have a pet rat!" he ranted, clearly having gone mad. Who, in their right mind, would murder such a kind and generous spirit? She was fucking pregnant for God's sake. Five months along. They finally achieved the one thing they were hoping for and they were ecstatic. They were trying to have a baby for a year.

The only thing that made it worse was that, of course, Draco was the number one suspect. Harry and Ron were quick in stating that, in fact, Draco and Hermione used to be sworn enemies. Nevermind that they've been married for almost three years. Draco scoffed. They never did approve of the relationship, in fact, they refused, point blank, to meet with Hermione while Draco was present.

"Bastards," he muttered. Being the supportive husband that he was, he told her to visit them whenever she wished. She always protested stating that they should get used to her being in a relationship with him because Draco wasn't going anywhere, but Draco always insisted. He, for the most part, was usually nearby during the whole affair. Just in case they tried any funny business of kidnapping her, or something outrageous like that. They did always remind Hermione of his cruelty in the past and any other cockshit lies they cooked up for that luncheon. Draco laughed at his obviously retarded pun. Plus, in his humble opinion, Potter and Weasley were cracked in the head. He was getting delirious. He was just glad Hermione always brushed it off, knowing that he **did **change. Got to mature sometime, although Potty and Weasel did not.

Draco signed. The only reason why he wasn't in Azkaban at this very moment was because of the Malfoy name, and even then it was wearing thin, especially with Harry and Ron, the Devil children, on the loose. The Boy Who Wouldn't Die and that carrot top shadow of his.

He smoothed out the crumbled newspaper onto his desk.

"Hermione Granger," he read, "they didn't even have the correct effing name. "It was and is Hermione Malfoy," he spat.

Quite suddenly he flung the offending material across the room and watched as it slammed against the bookshelf, falling to the floor loudly, taking some books down with it. The damage did nothing to assuage his pain.

Draco was never one to cry, not after that horrid year when he was 16-years-old and forced into being Voldemort's bitch because of his moron of a father, but now as he looked bemoaningly at the picture of him and Hermione in front of their vacation home, tears fell at a rapid rate onto his lap.

Sorry it's so short, but it's only the prologue.

Please Review. Whether you liked it or didn't like it. Constructive criticism please. Thanks!

Tizzy.


	2. Chapter 1

**Sorry it took so long. Midterms and all. Hope you guys enjoy the story. **

**I DO NOT OWN HP. Sorry.**

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I do."

"I do what she says," he smirked.

"Draco...," Hermione remarked, exasperatingly.

"Okay, okay, I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

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"Draco," Hermione giggled. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to carry you over the threshold! God you're heavy" Draco said, as he lifted her and proceeded to carry her down the hallway toward their room.

"Hey! I'm the bride. You can't say that to me!"

"Actually, I can. You, my sweet, got the Wedding Day. I, as the groom, get to do whatever I want for the Wedding **Night**."

"Hmm, I guess that's fair. I did get all the attention, didn't I?"

"Yes, now all you have to do is pay attention to me. All. Night. Long."

Finally! They reached the door. He opened the door using his wand and placed her on the bed.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he whispered, huskily. God, he couldn't wait any longer. His pants were getting increasingly tight.

"I don't need you to be gentle," Hermione huffed. "I'm not a virgin."

"What?! Who did this to you? I'll kill him."

Hermione stuck out her tongue at him. "You did. Don't you remember?" She purred.

"Oh yeah. It was the best night of your life."

"You wish." Hermione laughed, toeing off her shoes.

"Well, even if it wasn't the best night of your life, tonight sure will be," he promised.

"Prove it." Her voice held a distinct hint of a challenge.

That was the last thing Hermione said before he crushed his lips against hers.

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Draco remembered that night, just like he remembers all the nights he spent with her. He rubbed his hand against the cement wall. He had been Azkaban for about 2 months now. They needed to show they were doing their job. Something. Apparently, it was bad that they couldn't find even a suspect for one of the famous war heroes. He scoffed. What better story than to say the husband did it? Of course. Now, they remember that he and Hermione were married.

Being here was awful. They, of course, wouldn't find any evidence and would let him free. Right?

He sighed.

"Draco Malfoy, you're being let out," said one of the guards. Bloody Idiot. At least the dementors weren't around here ever since the war.

"Finally. Did you find out who did it?" Draco wanted this guy maimed and executed.

"In a manner of speaking. She did it to herself," at Draco's stunned silence, the guard pushed forward. "The St. Mungo's team pronounced it to be suicide."

"Suicide?! Why would Hermione commit suicide? She was happy, damnit!"

"I don't know. Probably to get the hell away from you?" He smirked at his own joke, not seeing the pale fist coming his way.

Draco punched him in the nose. After he was satisfied with the blood that oozed out, he stalked off, the blood boiling in his veins. "Someone give me my fucking wand."

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Draco glanced up before going back to what he was doing. "Ginvera Weasley. May I help you?" Draco was sitting on the dining room chair, carving lines into the table with a knife.

"Uh," Ginny licked her lips. "I'm sure you heard about the funeral."

"Yes," he stated, begrudgingly. Fucking bastards. If they had given him a fucking one day pass, he could have gone, too. Now, he wasn't even sure he wanted to go. He didn't want to see her in the...Damnit, he couldn't even say it in his head. He was getting to become a fucking puss--

"Draco? You there?"

"Yes, yes," he waved off her concern. "Can I help you with something?"

"Um, I brought you pictures, if you want to see it."

"Why? Why are you helping me? I know you were only nice to me because Hermione asked you to. She's gone now. You can go back to hating me."

"I never hated you," she said, surprised. "Who told you that?" When Draco didn't say anything, she sighed. "Well, anyway, it's here if you want it." She placed a stack of photos on the table.

"It's just...Damnit. I mi...miss her." To Ginny's shock, he started sobbing.

"I know, Draco, I know." She hugged him. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I think I'll just lie down or something." He hastily wiped his tears with his sleeve.

"Okay, well, I'm just an owl away."

"I know. Thanks."

Once Ginny left, Draco closed his eyes and picked up the pictures. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. They started watering immediately after. He pressed his thumb against the imprint of her face. She was lying there, pale and white as ever, in the coffin.

One minute later, Draco fainted.  
**---------------****  
**

He woke up later in a daze. Weird, he thought to himself, I've never done that before. That was ... very peculiar. He shook his head, trying to shake off the weird prickly feeling he felt. It was then that he realized that all the pictures that Weasley had given him were missing. Confused, but too wary, he went to work.

"Malfoy."

"Zabini."

"How are you fairing?"

"Fairing? What are you some kind of pussy? I feel like shit. Thanks for asking." Draco said sarcastically.

"Just because you're having a bad day doesn't mean you have to rain on my parade" Blaise replied.

Draco looked at him pointedly while Blaise proceeded to stare in return. Draco sighed, being the first one to back down This was pointless. Blaise and his stupid games. Unfortunately for him, Blaise was the only friend Draco and Hermione both liked and who didn't harbor some kind of hatred toward them. In fact, at times it seemed like Hermione was closer to Blaise than even he was,and they used to be in expensive diapers together.Sometimes he wondered if they ...But, of course, Hermione always squashed that thought with a smoldering look in Draco's direction. Either that or she was a good actress. That...that...seductress! Draco's active imagination was getting the best of him.

"Am I interrupting something?" Blaise looked at him amusingly. "You're staring at me with a look of contempt written upon your face."

Draco sighed "Did you hear what happened to Hermione?" He could barely keep his voice steady.

That smug bastard finally took the smirk off of his face and looked solemn. "Yes, I did. I went to her funeral, after all."

"I'm not talking about that!" Draco practically yelled, clearly miffed that he wasn't able to attend his own wife's funeral while the whole world apparently did. "I'm talking about what the so called fucking experts say that killed her."

"Oh, of course. They're saying that she killed herself, although they aren't saying why. Skeptics are spreading rumors that you had some kind of hold on her and a type of domestic abuse occurred."

"I DID NO SUCH THING!" This time Draco couldn't keep his anger in check. It is one thing to call him a skiving, diabolical jerk, because, honestly, that is what he was, but to say that he hurt women? And not any woman, but his own wife? That was clearly very insulting, both to his manhood and his barely existing dignity He would never do that and he especially would not abuse his wife.

"I know, Draco, I know," Blaise replied, unfazed by Draco's outburst. He was more than used to them. "It wasn't suicide."

"How would you know?" Draco accused, eyes narrowing, his anger flaring up once more. "Do you know who did it? Was it YOU?"

"No, it wasn't me you dolt. Will you get a grip? I...I'm pretty sure I know what happened, but I'm sworn to secrecy"

"Secrecy?! Damn secrecy to hell! Tell me goddamnit. Wait, before you tell me that, explain who the hell made you keep that secret and why. I want answers Zabini. I want them right fucking now"

"I told you to get a **grip**, Draco. Do you want the whole Ministry to know?"

Hmm, Draco pondered to himself, when did we get in the hall way and how, for that matter, did he manage to get himself to work without mangling himself? He smirked inwardly, at least he wasn't totally incompet...

"Damnit, stop dazing off," Blaise scolded as he dragged him towards Draco's nearby office.

As soon as the door was tightly shut, Blaise was bombarded with questions.

"How do you know this wasn't suicide? Who told you? How'd you find out? Did you know something about Hermione that she didn't tell me? Why didn't you tell me before? Why didn't you bail me out of Azkaban for one day so I could go? If it wasn't suicide who did it? Why the hell are you not answering any of my questions?" Draco spewed out rapidly, which was amazing considering the fact that he hadn't taken one breath.

"Hold on. Hold on! I can't answer questions while you're firing more at me. It just confuses me." Blaise gave a huge sigh. "Okay it's like this: I do know something that you don't know." Blaise paused, while Draco glared impatiently, tapping his foot.

"I just can't tell you. I wish I could, really."

"Why the fuck can't you tell me, you sorry piece of shit." Draco answered in a low, dangeroustone.

"Simple, I have the Unbreakable Vow that won't let me." Blaise said as if this was the answer to all of Draco's questions.

"Then tell me and die, you fucker."

"I told you, I can't. The reason why it's UNBREAKABLE is because Hermione didn't want you to know."

"Hermione?" Draco was thrown off-guard for a second. "What does she have to do with this?"

"She's the one who wanted the Unbreakable Vow done, smartass. She didn't want to tell you this...something because she was protecting you."

"I don't need protection. Now tell me."

Blaise sighed, Draco was clearly not understanding the point. "Not only did I do the Unbreakable, I gave her my word. I promised her."

"Fine. Fine." Draco huffed, irritated that this was going nowhere. "She wasn't..." he swallowed, "cheating on me was she?"

"NO! Stop thinking that will you? Look, I can't tell you anything, but I want you to look through your wedding album."

"My wedding album?" Draco questioned,incredulously.

"Just do it. Trust me, it'll help you figure out what happened. I can't tell you why."

"Okay. Thanks." Draco rubbed his forehead gingerly. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"No, but you'll figure it out. I know you can." Blaise smiled faintly.

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While looking through the album, just as Blaise had said, Draco fingered the pictures of himself and Hermione; hugging, laughing, smiling, and kissing each other. A single tear rolled down his cheek and landed on Hermione's face. He smiled as the imprint of Hermione glared and winked at him. Even in a picture, Hermione's true colors showed. He sighed. What the hell was the point of this if all it did was make him depressed? He was getting aggravated as the answers continued to elude him.

"Hermione, who...why did you leave me?" That was the last thing Draco uttered before blackness overtook him.

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His head was groggy as he sat up. What the hell was that? The last thing he remembered was gazing at the photo album. Photo album? Speaking of which, where the hell was it? It must have gotten under the couch or something when he blacked out. As Draco stuck his hand underneath the couch and felt past the dustbunnies and various knickknacks, his hand bumped into something hard and smooth.

It was some kind of Muggle device and an old one at that. It was a video camera. It must have gotten lost after Draco got her that brand new digital camera last Christmas. And he had just gotten used to that damned Muggle contraption.

Wait, there was film in here. What the fuck? Draco surveyed the item and then pressed play. Apparently the lens was cracked and the film didn't show anything, but that didn't stop the audio from playing. Hearing it sent chills down his spine and it made his hair stand on end.

"Draco?"

"Guess again, bitch!"

Hermione screamed, her gasps making it apparent that she was surprised from the sudden outburst. "What do you want?"

"You can't give me anything I want, Mudblood. Oh wait, you can. I want you **dead**. Any last words?"

"Fuck you," she spat.

"Fine, have it your way, I guess you didn't want to tell your _precious_ Draco that you love him, or some kind of crap like that."

"Of course I lov..."

Then there was silence.

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**EDIT: Someone just informed me that my story is similar to the story The Secret Life by Atruwriter. I just read that story. It's VERY good, however, my story is NOTHING like that. In the secret life, Hermione goes missing. In MY story. Hermione is dead. Sorry guys, she's not coming back to life, nor is she hiding. She's actually BURIED in there. Sorry to disappoint. 33s**

**Thanks for reading. I'd like to thank the reviewers. Especially marajade64 for being my first reviewer ever. **

**Draco: Review or else face my wrath! jabs a wand threateningly at you**

**Me: Drakie, don't be mean.**

**Draco. Don't call me that. And anyway, do you want to have zero reviews?!**

**Me: Well…no…sweatdrop er…proceed.**

**Draco: As I was saying. REVIEW!**


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